


umbrellas (and the endless rain)

by coppertears



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Attraction at first sight, Fluff, M/M, Rainy Days, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 15:28:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7228000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coppertears/pseuds/coppertears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the boy's never learned to protect himself from the rain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	umbrellas (and the endless rain)

  
**umbrellas (and the endless rain)**  
kaisoo  
pg-13  


 

 

 

 

on rainy days, kyungsoo likes to curl up by the bedroom window with a book in his hand and a cup of coffee nearby. he alternates between reading blocks of text and watching the rest of the world drown, drops of liquid rolling down the pane. from here, he has a good view of the sidewalk and the cars racing down the highway. kyungsoo’s got an idea of the most frequent visitors to the area: a red car, shiny even in the midst of the storm; a black mountain bike abandoned near a lamppost; an endless parade of umbrellas that arrives when the skies open up.

but what catches kyungsoo’s attention more times than he can count is the boy who’s always running down the street without an umbrella. by now, kyungsoo’s memorized his face and body structure after all the moments that the boy's rushed past the window, drenched and breathless, eyes blinking back the sting of the rain. what makes him noticeable is the bright blue bag hanging by a strap from his right shoulder, and the black cap perched low on his head, obscuring most of his features.

kyungsoo thinks he’s pretty, though -- there is something about the angles and planes of the boy’s face that strikes him as powerful, and the lines of his body speak of so much grace. even when he runs, there is a rhythm to the pounding of his feet; his movements aren’t as aimless as everyone else’s.

he turns a page of his book and wonders why, after so much time has passed, the boy’s never learned to protect himself from the rain.

 

 

 

 

it is a cloudy monday when kyungsoo finds himself sitting on the steps leading up to the door of his apartment, an umbrella leaning against his shoulder, ensconcing him in warmth and safety from the elements. he watches sheets of rain break apart the calm atmosphere; he watches as it all pours down, down, down, until the cold buries itself beneath his skin.

kyungsoo doesn’t know why he’s doing this but it’s more than a little interesting, especially since he’s got nothing to do. he’s finally gotten through the last pages of his book, eyes lingering on the back cover before putting the book away.

his eyes scan the figures on the way to the places they call home, searching for that one person in the crowd. the chances of success are pretty low, considering that the perspective’s different from here, but kyungsoo hopes that the boy will pass by today and that he’ll be able to recognize him.

minutes fall away, and kyungsoo’s soundtrack is the clap of thunder tearing up the surroundings. he’s just decided to go back inside when he sees it: the bright blue bag moving through the tangled mass of bodies, the lithe body, the black cap in a precarious position on top of brown hair.

acting on impulse, kyungsoo reaches out and grasps the boy’s wrist. shocked eyes look up at him and for a moment, kyungsoo’s drowning in them. the next second, he remembers what his purpose is and shoves the umbrella into the boy’s hands, closing calloused fingers around the handle.

“you should always bring an umbrella!” kyungsoo shouts above the noise of the rain and the honking of the cars, blinking back the water that’s now obscuring his vision.

the boy blinks at him, still shocked, and he says, “but you’re getting wet. you need this, too.”

kyungsoo shakes his head. “i live here. just take the umbrella and don’t forget to always bring it with you, okay?” without waiting for a response, he runs back up the steps because, really, he’s soaked to his bones. shivers race through his system and his fingers feel numb from the cold.

he’s only just pushing the key into the lock when the rain stops falling on him. kyungsoo glances behind him and realizes that the boy’s standing there, raising the umbrella over both of their heads. “i’m going wait until you’re inside,” the boy says, his smile tentative and soft as he catches kyungsoo’s puzzled expression. kyungsoo swallows because this close, he can see the boy’s face clearly, and his assumption that he’s good-looking is right.

he nods his head and returns to turning the key in the lock, concentrating on opening the door of his apartment and not on tanned skin, plush lips and expressive dark eyes.

kyungsoo’s just stepping inside when there’s the sound of a throat being cleared and he turns back to the boy, curiosity stamping itself all over his features. “i’m jongin,” the boy says, cheeks slightly red, and kyungsoo has to stop himself from gushing over how cute he is. “what’s your name?”

“my name’s kyungsoo,” kyungsoo finds the voice to say, his hand gripping the doorknob tightly.

“kyungsoo,” jongin murmurs, tongue caressing the syllables of his name, and kyungsoo can feel himself heating up from head to toe. tendrils of contentment curl around his chest. he looks down at his feet.

“thanks for the umbrella, kyungsoo,” jongin says, his voice firm this time, and kyungsoo finds the courage to look him in the eye.

“it’s no problem,” he says, the corners of his lips curling upwards.

jongin lingers on his doorstep for a few more seconds, as if he’s not quite sure how to leave. but the rain’s still pouring and he’s got places calling out to him, and jongin takes a step back, uncertainty crossing his face. “i have to go,” he says, his tone hesitant. “um, see you some other time?”

kyungsoo doesn’t think he’ll ever see him again but he nods. “see you.”

and with a smile that sends electricity sparking through kyungsoo’s veins, jongin’s melting back into the crowd, kyungsoo’s umbrella raised over his head.

it takes kyungsoo a long while before he manages to close the door.

 

 

 

 

the next time it rains is nearly two weeks later, when kyungsoo’s stopped wishing for the clouds to grow heavy with liquid so that he can see the boy again. but then he thinks that it’s probably pointless, especially when he thinks of the fact that people change routines anytime they want to, and so he abandons his spot by the window. he still hasn’t bought a new book.

he turns on the tv and leaves it blaring muted news in the shadows of his living room, and he pads over to the kitchen to cook something. he’s just settled on making some hot soup, maybe a cup of coffee too, when the shrill ring of the doorbell cuts through the weather forecast. kyungsoo frowns. he hardly gets any visitors at this hour.

he opens the door to a jongin with a sheepish grin on his face, no bright blue bag hanging from his shoulder. but he has kyungsoo’s umbrella in his hand and the black cap’s still crammed artlessly on his head. kyungsoo stares at him and jongin shifts from foot to foot.

“i’d like to, um, thank you for the last time,” jongin stutters, looking anywhere but at kyungsoo. he bounces on the balls of his feet. “for this.” he shakes the umbrella a little and the gesture is so adorable that it pulls a chuckle out of kyungsoo. jongin seems surprised by this but he smiles and, well, it’s both bright and heartbreaking.

“it’s okay, jongin,” kyungsoo says. “you don’t have to --”

“but i want to,” jongin interrupts, almost afraid that kyungsoo might talk him out of doing what he’s planned to do. he meets kyungsoo’s eyes this time, and it’s hard for the shorter guy to keep his sanity intact. “let me take you out for coffee.”

kyungsoo thinks of the ingredients laid out on the countertop, of the tv still broadcasting news that he never really listens to, of the papers he still has to write. he thinks of all those things and then he thinks of jongin’s smile, of the way the other guy’s face will crumple when kyungsoo says no. “in this rain?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“in this rain,” jongin confirms. “it’s the best time to get something hot to drink.” and there’s a twinkle in his eye, an undefined promise that appeals to kyungsoo, and he finds himself agreeing.

“okay,” kyungsoo says, and jongin’s happiness almost blinds him. it makes him feel giddy. “let me just get my coat.”

the ingredients stay on the countertop. the tv remains unplugged. as kyungsoo turns off the lights and locks the door behind him, he thinks that there never really was a chance of him rejecting jongin.

 

 

 

 

wind rattles the windows and lightning casts the room in jagged puzzle pieces. kyungsoo yawns awake and hands come around his waist, holding him closer until he’s flush with warmth.

he turns his face up to see a lazy smile flickering over jongin’s lips before he leans down to kiss kyungsoo.

they meet on a rainy day, kyungsoo remembers. jongin first takes him out for coffee when the skies are dark with angels’ tears. jongin officially asks him out in the middle of a storm, without an umbrella or a cap to shield their heads, jongin engulfing him in his embrace when kyungsoo says _yes, yes, i’ll go out with you_. a year later, here they are, still intertwined whenever the sun gives way to the rain.

from the corner of his eye, he sees the umbrella leaning against the wall. kyungsoo smiles and snuggles closer to jongin, until he’s surrounded by jongin’s scent and the heat rising from his tanned skin.

on rainy days, kyungsoo stays wrapped in jongin’s embrace while jongin murmurs _i love you_ in his ear.

 

 

 

 

 

 

  



End file.
